


Clean Game

by TheManyFacesofJester



Category: Spartacus Series (TV), Spartacus: Vengeance, Spartacus: War of the Damned
Genre: Football | Soccer, M/M, Multi, Soccer AU, sport au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-11
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-21 23:34:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8264533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheManyFacesofJester/pseuds/TheManyFacesofJester
Summary: Nasir's life as a Denny's dishwasher takes an unexpected turn when he finds himself falling for soccer star Agron of the Gladiators, who's charm is rivaled only by his temper.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are! This is my first Spartacus fanfiction, and following in my grand tradition of never being able to write anything in canon, we have a Soccer AU! I wrote this all in two sittings, so it's not exactly what I was expecting, but I'm glad to have written it regardless! Enjoy!

_A little water clears us of this deed_ , Nasir thought as he plunged his hands into the soap-filled water. He wasn’t sure what deed exactly it was clearing him of, but he felt cleansed nonetheless. As he put more dishes in the sink his waterlogged hands felt almost numb from the scrubbing sensation. He tried to focus on the task, but his thoughts were interrupted by a loud crash from the dining area followed by shouting and more loud smashing noises. Nasir felt equal parts nosey about what was going on out there and also profoundly disappointed at all the dishes that he could hear being broken. Less for him to wash, though.

“Nasir! We need some help cleaning up!” Sibyl called as she poked her head in through the door. The sweet waitress looked frazzled, but gentle as always.

“I’ll get a broom?” Nasir asked, though he was already reaching for one.

“We’ll have to clear the table away first, I’m afraid!”

“The table…” Nasir muttered, pushing to door open as gentle as he could to peak out and access the damage. From his vantage point Nasir could see a whole table flipped over with dishes broken everywhere. Several patrons were leaving angrily, but Nasir could tell they weren’t the ones who had caused any offense. His bets were on the soccer team players who were having a conversation with the manager of the Denny’s. Nasir sighed and abandoned his kitchen to help Sibyl lift the table and put it out of the way so they could get to the shattered kitchenware that covered the floor.

Nasir collected the broom he had suggested previously and began the task of gathering every piece of shattered plate and glass that covered the floor of the now empty Denny’s– empty except for the soccer players who had dispersed from their conversation with the manager save one who Nasir recognized as Spartacus, the star champion and team captain of the Gladiators. Much of the team was waiting by the door, but a few players had taken seats around the diner. Only one, however, sat close enough to Nasir for conversation. He had seen the soccer player in on-screen interviews and replays a few times when the diner played the Gladiators matches, so Nasir knew him to be Agron, the second most popular player on the team besides Spartacus. He was, however, known less for being a good player – which he was – but more for being aggressive on the field. Even still, Nasir has always found him to be pleasant off the field during the team’s regular visits to the diner.

“Does this happen a lot?” Agron asked nonchalant as he watched Nasir clean.

“Do people flip tables and break dishes?” Nasir said, looking sideways at Agron. “Yes, actually.”

Agron laughed and Nasir smiled slightly.

“It does not mean I enjoy it,” he quickly followed up, “but it does present a nice diversion from being in the kitchen.”

“Is that why I never see you? You’re a cook?” Agron asked.

“No, dishwasher.”

“Useful job,” Agron mumbled, obviously running out of things to say.

“You’re Agron, right?” Nasir said, trying to lead them to more fluid conversation so the man didn’t leave.

“I am. You go to the games often? You must with the field being right next door!”

“I’ve actually never been.”

“Never been?” The soccer star sounded shocked. “Yet you work so close.”

“Yet the price of tickets is the same even if I lived in the bleachers.”

Agron laughed again and some feeling came back to Nasir’s waterlogged hands.

“I watch the matches on the television though,” Nasir added. “You play very well, though your matches often get more violent than soccer is supposed to be.”

He said the last line cautiously, watching as Agron shrugged his shoulders.

“You say that like it’s always my fault. I promise I’m not to blame for most of those disagreements.”

“Of course,” Nasir smiled. “And one of those unruly players showed up and started an argument with you here?”

“You’re so quick to blame me for this mess?” Agron said with mock offense. He sounded like a tool just then, but Nasir found it endearing more than anything.

“If it wasn’t you than who was it?”

Nasir swept in circles around Agron’s chair as they spoke while Sibyl swept elsewhere, in conversation with another of the soccer players who Nasir didn’t recognize.

“Alright, I will take blame for being part of the fight, but not starting it. That was Crixus’s doing.”

“Crixus?”

“You haven’t heard about him transferring to our team? It’s been all over the news. Our goalie Naevia and him started dating while he was on another team, but now that they’re engaged he decided to join our team. We exchanged two of our players for him and Gannicus, the long haired one over there chatting up your waitress–”

“–Sibyl.”

“–chatting up Sibyl. They’re strong players, I’ll give them that, but Crixus is a fucking asshole, and he flipped the table.”

Nasir stole a glance over at Naevia, who he recognized, to see if this Crixus was beside her. There was a man nearby who Nasir had seen her kissing in a few of the promotional clips for the Gladiators. He looked strong enough to lift a table and carry it several miles, so he did not doubt that Crixus could have flipped the whole table on his own.

“Any special reason why he’s an asshole?” Nasir asked.

“He doesn’t know when to stop talking, particularly about his team which he apparently finds superior to ours.”

“His? Ours? Is he not a part of your team still?” He could not help but sound facetious.

“If he is he certainly doesn’t act like it,” Agron replied. “He never shuts up about their superior tactics. And superior teammates, those comments which he directs at me specifically.”

“You’re sure of that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Well, it takes time to warm up to people. Especially when you’re the new person. He might just need time to fit in.”

“This isn’t high school, erm... What  is your name, actually?”

“Nasir.”

“This isn’t high school, _Nasir_. This is our job. If he can’t handle it he can leave– not like we need him anyway.”

“Alright, but still, you’ll catch more flies with honey.”

“And why would I want to catch flies?”

“You know what I mean,” Nasir sighed. Agron hummed a laugh in response, his eyes flickering over where Spartacus and the Denny’s manager had reappeared.

“I suppose he’s sorted out the matter of payment,” Nasir commented when his eyes followed Agron’s.

“And hopefully cleared the path for us to keep coming here,” Agron said as he stood. “I would miss my all-you-can-eat pancake cheat meal, and your company, of course.”

Nasir crinkled his nose at the comment.

“You just met me.”

“Let’s call you honey,” he replied and headed for the door. Nasir chewed his lip just enough to make it raw. His hands felt rough against the wooden broom, but everything felt warm as well. When he looked up from his work the team was gone, but Sibyl had a look on her face that matched what Nasir was feeling in his body. They had both had a pleasant time in the midst of a mess; a kindly memory after a hurricane.


	2. Chapter 2

Nasir stole another glance at his waterproof watch. Work after the day before’s excitement dragged on like a drought. Nothing of note happened all morning as Nasir washed, and washed, and washed dish after filthy dish until they shined with lavender scented dish soap. Sibyl caught a spare moment here and there when the diner was empty to share a slice of conversation, but still time clung to a standstill. And yet, the day had time, and held promise with it.

“So this is what a Denny’s kitchen looks like,” an almost familiar voice from the doorway declared. “Too much white and silver.”

“Agron,” Nasir said, startled. “I– you’re not supposed to be back here.”

“I can leave if you want,” Agron said honestly. Nasir looked out the window that lent a view into the diner, and upon seeing no one of importance looking in, shrugged and went back to washing dishes.

“No,” he said. “You can stay. If someone says you can’t be in here I can play dumb. We’re too short-staffed for them to fire me.”

Agron smiled and leaned against a counter, letting Nasir work while he was there.

“Why are you here? I thought you Gladiators did nothing but practice all day, every day.”

“You are grossly misinformed,” Agron replied. “They release us from our cages for soccer, food, _and_ apologies.”

“Apologies?” Nasir asked halfway between a laugh. “Not to me, surely.”

“No, to the manager for yesterday’s disagreement. Spartacus also comes bearing a check for the damages.”

“And you, of course, being entirely innocent yesterday, don’t feel obligated to offer any apologies?”

“I don’t apologize for anything that isn’t my fault,” Agron said. “Crixus flipped the table, not me. Not Spartacus either, or Naevia, or Mira. We are not at fault for what one person does.”

“Isn’t that a prime part of being on a team? Taking responsibility for each other?”

“When Crixus decides to act like part of the team, then we’ll behave like one.”

Nasir said nothing, but let his eyes roll just slightly. There was a silence between them while Nasir diligently scrubbed at a crusted plate. It was odd, to have another person there while he worked. Sibyl poked in once in a while, but to have an outsider standing full in his space, he almost felt like his mind was being interrupted. He had to share a piece of his inner sanctum with a foreigner.

“They don’t make you wear a hairnet with that mess on your head?” Agron said suddenly.

“Mess?” Nasir retorted, swiveling around to face the other man, who seemed unphased by Nasir’s alarm. “No, I don’t have to. As long as it’s tied up it’s fine. Why, are you the fucking FDA?”

“No, I just wanted to know.”

“Mess!” Nasir said with even more indignity as he turned back to the sink.

“When it’s not up in that high ponytail, I imagine it is,” Agron said, standing up so he could get what Nasir had to assume was a closer look.

“If you must know, yes, it can be a mess, but as long as I stick to my hair routine it’s actually quite manageable.”

“Hair routine!” Agron laughed. “Are you one of those people who gets up an hour early just to do your hair?”

Nasir shot Agron a look and that was answer enough.

“How early?” he asked. “I have to know. It’s not an hour is it?”

“Forty minutes,” Nasir muttered to a sharp laugh from his companion, “but _only_ because the product has to sit!”

Agron laughed until Nasir hit him with a spatula.

“And what, you never work on your appearance?”

“Do you think I need to?” Agron asked with laughing eyes and half a smile.

"No, but–” Nasir trailed off. Agron certainly looked fine without any help. He was tall enough to touch the sun, with a smile that seemed to claim such a feat had been achieved, and eyes that eclipsed the moon. Remarkable people always held something cosmic in their being.

“Much appreciated,” Agron said, taking Nasir’s words as a compliment, which they certainly were. Before any more could be said voices carried from the dining room to the kitchen.

“That’ll be Spartacus and the rest of the team.”

“And Crixus,” Nasir reminded Agron. “Since, according to you, he’s not on the team quite yet.”

“Yes” he agreed in a tight way, “and Crixus.”

“You’ll catch more–”

“–ants with poison,” Agron finished. Nasir shook his head and dried his hands as he went to get another round of dishes from the bussing cart.

“And why would you want to catch ants?”

There was a smile, and a wave, and Agron was gone again. Nasir felt, in a significant way, somehow brighter than before. Like he’d been showered in a kind of stardust. Illustrious was a word for it. Important was a better one. Agron listened to him, and that made all the different between how he usually interacted with others.

Having fallen behind because of his conversational attitude, Nasir rushed to complete set after set of dishes and only noticed, after Agron had long since left, an envelope left where he had been leaning. Nasir left the kitchen through the back just briefly to see if he could possibly catch Agron or anyone on the team to return what had been left, but it was a useless chase. Imagining that Agron and the team would return soon enough to eat again, Nasir left the envelope in a cupboard to give back then.


	3. Chapter 3

_How poor are they that have not patience,_ Nasir repeated over and over to himself. Unfortunately for him, in terms of the envelope and his own amusement, neither Agron nor anyone from the Gladiators returned to the restaurant for some time. Instead a week passed in the meanwhile and Nasir began to get agitated that the letter had not been returned to its owner yet.

“You could open it to see what it is,” Sibyl said as Nasir got ready to leave work after his shift was over.

“It’s illegal to tamper with the mail, Sibyl.”

“It doesn’t have a stamp on it. Or an address,” she said. “It’s just an envelope at this point.”

“You’re just being nosey,” he said, taping her gently on her soft black hair with the envelope. “And _I’m_ just going to return it.”

“It’s illegal to open a letter to find out how to return it, but breaking into a soccer stadium is perfectly fine?”

“I’m not breaking in, I’m… going to get lost on my way to see a friend,” he replied with a quirk of his mouth.

“And when the security guards catch you wandering aimlessly around the locker rooms? What are you going to tell them? You got lost?”

“That I’m grabbing something for one of the players, that I’m looking for the bathroom, that I lost my hat, I can say whatever I want. They’re not going to ban me forever because I opened the wrong door.”

Nasir tucked the envelope into his one of his jeans overly large pockets and headed for the door.

“Just be careful, alright!” Sibyl called, waving from the back entrance. Nasir nodded and waved back, walking out into the warm air. It was no exaggeration to say that the home stadium for the Gladiators was right next door to the Denny’s. There was nothing beside the Denny’s on that side besides a large parking lot that created a lot of noise for the diner when there was a match that required people to park in that area. At the moment, however, no one was present, and Nasir inconspicuously meandered through the lot and around the stadium looking for an entrance. He found one almost too easily through an unlocked equipment door on the side which lead to an equipment room adjacent to what must have been the locker rooms. Once inside, however, Nasir was more nervous than outside. Outside he was just looking, inside he was a legitimate intruder. Still, he was already in, so he had to go through with what he had started.

The inside of the building was just as Nasir has expected it to be. Grey, for the most part, and despite being obviously clean it felt, at all times, grimy in nature, like the walls were built from filth. The place was a labyrinth of tunnels and doors that were all locked and quiet. It was a miracle anyone managed to find their way around without a map on their person at all times, but then Nasir had not looked at any map at all, so perhaps the journey was a short one that he simply didn’t know.

It was while he was pondering taking a left or a right at a fork in his road that Nasir heard a shout from someone down one of the halls.

“Hey! What are you doing here?” a security guard called, moving quickly with another guard to see how was in his path.

“Erm, I’m looking for Agron. He was supposed to… meet me,” Nasir lied as the guards got to him. Nasir was not skilled in many things, but lying had always proved his strong suit.

“Agron? What’re you meeting about?” the other guard asked. He seemed to be trying to make the question out to be a serious one, but Nasir could almost instinctively tell that he was just curious. With the recent transferring of players and Agron’s obvious issues with his new teammates, the soccer world must have been a-buzz with rumor.

“It’s just a personal matter–” Nasir started before a woman showed up behind the guards.

“Ah, Naevia, this man claims he’s supposed to meet with Agron. Do you know him?” one of the men asked. Nasir rounded down a series of lies to three preferred options, but ended up not needing any when she responded with:

“Not well, but I know he knows Agron. I’ll take him to him.”

The guards seemed satisfied with that answer and continue on their way as Naevia led Nasir the opposite way.

“You work in the diner,” she said while they walked, not in an unfriendly way, just a curious one. “What brings you here?”

“Agron left something at the diner,” Nasir explained. “But he never came back so I couldn’t give it to him. I’m just trying to return it.”

“Alright,” she said. “I believe you. Honestly though, I wouldn’t mind if you were here to jump him the way he’s been acting.”

Nasir knew she was referencing her fiancé and Agron’s tenuous relationship and was going to ask about the status of that when the question was answered for him upon arrival to the field. Naevia and Nasir were greeted not by drills and practice, but a fist fight between Agron and Crixus in the middle of the field. Both of them ran to the field and grabbed the shoulders of each man, pulling the two away from each other. Naevia wrapped her arms around Crixus and led him away to one side of the field while Agron shrugged Nasir’s hands of his shoulders and went the opposite way.

“Agron,” Nasir called behind him as he hurried to keep up. “Agron, I need to–”

“Why are you here?” Agron asked with a snap, placing a wet cloth to his face that had a minor bruise on it. “How did you even get here?”

“I, erm, Naevia helped me in. I needed to see you.”

“So you could what? Get involved in something that doesn’t concern you.” He sounded more upset than Nasir thought he should be.

“No, but I saw you fighting and no one else was stopping you so we both went to help. What was I supposed to do?”

“Nothing is fine,” he muttered. “You can make as many side comments at your restaurant as you want, but I don’t need you here pulling me from a fight.”

Agron was turning to head back to the field, apparently done with the conversation, which irked Nasir to no end.

“I just came to return this,” he said, shoving the envelope into Agron’s startled hands before marching his way out through the doors. He had no trouble finding the exit to the stadium and he broiled the whole trip to the bus stop.


	4. Chapter 4

Nasir couldn’t stop thinking about what had happened at the stadium over the next few days. While he could understand why Agron might have been confused about what why Nasir had been there, he didn’t have quite a right to get angry at him for helping break up a fight. Still, Nasir found himself leaning out the kitchen door when he got a chance to watch the television playing the soccer coverage.

“Nasir!” Sibyl whispered as she passed, her arms filled with plates of food. “The dishes, you fool!”

Nasir tossed her a look before disappearing back into the kitchen to continue scrubbing. Not long after business slowed and Sibyl found time to sneak in a kitchen conversation.

“You’re still watching for him, even after what happened?” she asked in a soft sort of way. Nasir shrugged in response, his hands remaining immersed in the sudsy water. He let there be silence until he felt a conversation bubble up like soap.

“I feel stupid,” he said. That wasn’t what he planned on saying, but it’s what he said anyway. “I shouldn’t have gone. I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You wanted to see him again,” Sibyl sighed dramatically. “I think it was sweet.”

“He didn’t think so.”

“He’s just gotten out of a fight, he was upset.”

“Yeah, alright, fair enough,” Nasir hummed. “Doesn’t mean I don’t wish things had gone differently.”

“Why don’t I tell you when the teams here next time they come, and you can work things out? They’ll be back soon I’m sure.”

She couldn’t actually be sure of that, since neither her nor Nasir were certain whether the team was even still allowed at this Denny’s, or any for that matter, but it did make him feel better, so he nodded and smiled. Sibyl shared his grin before she heard the Denny’s door open and made her way out to continue working.

“Hey, Nasir! He’s on the TV!” Sibyl hissed quickly, poking her head in through the door for the briefest of moments. Nasir wasn’t sure what she meant, but he left his sudsy dishes where they were to pop his head out of the doorway and check the television.

He understood what Sibyl meant when he saw a soccer player doing an interview with a news station.

“–craziest things happen during practices too though,” Nasir caught Agron saying on the screen. He looked like he had been working out, his short hair matted slightly against his face, his eyes bright with exercise.

“Crazy? How do you mean?” the woman conducting the interview asked in a perky voice that all reporters shared.

“The other day I gave someone at a diner my number, and they broke into the stadium and made it all the way to the field just to give it back to me!”

There was laughter following Agron’s words, but Nasir didn’t quite hear them. His heart was pulsing in his ears out of both anger and confusion. He tossed a look to Sibyl, who gave a tentative one in return.

“Maybe he’s talking about someone else,” she suggested as she passed by, carrying dirty dishes in both arms.

“Or maybe he’s just an ass. I was returning a letter he left, not his number!”

“He’s probably just playing the story up for the news. Everyone does it.”

“Sure,” Nasir agreed, though he didn’t sound like he was convinced. He broke two dishes during the rest of his shift by washing them too aggressively. Nasir wasn’t sure why he was upset, he had, after all, broken into the field and it was Agron’s right to tell anyone he wanted about it. In all, Nasir rounded his feelings down to embarrassment. He had done something stupid and it wasn’t enough for Agron to think he was a fool, but the rest of the world would too, even if he hadn’t been mentioned by name.

When his shift was finished and he had settled down somewhat he made an executive decision to take a walk by the stadium. He didn’t expect to see Agron, even if he did he didn’t know what he would say of if there was anything to be said, but an apology would be nice to offer to Agron, though he wasn’t sure he had truly done anything to cause such offense. Besides, of course, breaking and entering, but that wasn’t what had apparently upset Agron, so Nasir did not factor that in.

“Casing the joint?” a voice called as Nasir made his second walk past the stadium. Agron had separated himself from a group of players to walk closer to the other man.

“No,” Nasir said, stupidly. “I was looking for you.”

“Right,” Agron said and was about to say more before Nasir cut in.

“You never gave me your number!”

“What?”

“I saw your interview today. Apparently trying to return the mail you left at my diner doesn’t make as nice a story as law-breaking rejection. I can get fired, by the way, if anyone finds out what was me!”

“Hey, slow down!” Agron waved his hands to get Nasir quiet. “I _did_ give you my number, _and_ a ticket to our upcoming match, and you gave both back to me.”

“What?” Nasir was confused. It wasn’t possible they could both be wrong. “You didn’t give me anything. I found the envelope you left behind–”

“–which had my number and the ticket in it,” Agron said like all of that was universally known.

“What?” he repeated. “Why would I know what was in the envelope?”

“You didn’t even look?”

“It’s a crime to tamper with the mail, Agron!”

“You broke into a soccer stadium!”

“Yes, fine, I respect some laws more than others, alright!”

Agron let out a low chuckle. Nasir gave a smile and a sigh. They paused a moment to reflect on the series of mistakes that had led both of them to this moment.

“You could have just handed it to me,” Nasir said, kicking gravel beneath his feet for stimulus.

“I didn’t want you to feel pressured if you weren’t interested.”

“That’s much too considerate for the man who shouted at me for breaking up a fight and blasted me on public television.” Nasir was half joking, but part of him was still upset about both those incidents, even if the second one was just a misunderstanding.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Agron said, running his hands through his hair. “I was upset with Crixus not you, but you were there, so, easy target I suppose.”

“It really wasn’t any of my business…” Nasir admitted.

“It is if you wouldn’t have returned that envelope if you knew what was inside.” Agron lit up the street with his smile. Nasir shuffled his feet.

“I wouldn’t have returned it,” Nasir said softly. “But I think I’d have been too nervous to ever actually call you.”

“Then all of this happened for a reason, I guess!”

“Maybe.”

It grew darker and darker with each word they spoke before the stadium was suddenly alight with the sensor lights.

“You practice this late?” Nasir asked, casually tossing the subject to something else.

“Yeah, I’d better be getting back. You wanna come in and watch? I can let you through the entrance this time instead over a fence.”

“If you’d like me there,” he responded politely before getting defensive, “and I didn’t jump a fence, the door was open–”

Nasir followed Agron through the labyrinth of hallways before arriving at the field again. Agron directed him to sit on a side bench, which he did but all the while feeling totally awkward and out-of-place.

“Hey, you’re back!” a woman’s voice shouted in Nasir’s direction. “Got it sorted with Agron then?”

“Oh, hi again, Naevia. Yeah, it’s been sorted,” he nodded. “Thanks for yesterday, by the way!”

“No sweat,” she shrugged. “Not like I haven’t broken into stadiums to watch Crixus’s matches.”

“Isn’t everyone invited to watch the games?”

“Yeah, but I’m not gonna pay to see every single one!” Naevia’s laughter trailed off as she waved good-bye and returned to the center of the field where Spartacus and the coach, Oenomaus, were giving some sort of talk.

Nasir had seen some of the games on the Denny’s TV, but seeing the game even just practiced in real life was something else entirely. Everything felt like there were higher stakes. More tension, more animation, more dramatics. It wasn’t any wonder why Spartacus was team captain and publicly acclaimed soccer star; he could move faster and kick swifter than Nasir thought possible. Crixus, however, was a strong contender for that position as well. He approached the game more like how someone approaches a boxing or wrestling match. He didn’t want to just win, he wanted to dominate.

The other new addition, Gannicus, had passion as well, but he was all personality. He grinned and laughed and joked and smiled and then wrecked whoever opposed him with finesse and aggression. Yet Naevia was a better goalie than anyone Nasir had ever seen and she was absolutely brutal about keeping the ball out of the net. She got called out twice by the coach for stepping out of her area to take issue with another player.

The complete opposite of the rest of the team, Mira was quiet and strategic. She was small and flexible and her feet moved faster than some people’s minds, dribbling the ball across the field like she was on ice. Her kicking needed work, but she usually made an assist instead of a direct goal anyway so it didn’t make much of a difference. Those assists usually went to Saxa, whose powerful kicks were unsettling to watch from a viewer’s position, but likely terrifying from a goalies point of view. She made more goals than anyone else on the team combined, which was a feat even without a single goal in soccer being something rare.

But of course, Agron was Nasir’s favourite to watch. He was a master of deceit, able to convince any opponent, even his own teammates, that he was sending the ball one way when it was going the other. He might have been a stage actor for his subtle glances and body language leading everyone but the intended recipient astray. Even still, his skill couldn’t quite combat his temper.

“Do that one more fucking time!” Crixus yelled after Agron had shin-kicked him. It looked like an accident to Nasir, but it still probably hurt.

“Oh get over it, you pissing fuck!” Agron shouted back, despite the extra volume being unnecessary given that the two were right in front of each other.

“Calm down, will you!” Spartacus said as he placed a hand on both of them to create a gap between the two.

“I’m not the one who’s started this problem!” Crixus half said to Spartacus, half shouted at Agron.

Agron looked almost like he was going to raise his fist in response, but for a brief moment his eyes caught Nasir’s panicked expression and he lowered it.

“Fine. It _was_ an accident, but I’m sorry. Let’s just move on,” he said, and there was some confusion among the team. It was obvious that fights between Agron and Crixus, maybe Agron and anyone, didn’t end with him apologizing. Spartacus looked bewildered for a moment, then shared a shrug with Mira and they all went back to their respective positions on the field, some doing drills, others doing game practice.

Practice did not last much longer, but Agron’s diffusion of the situation both aided and hindered the practice somewhat. There was less tension and the team was working together just slightly more efficiently, but something in the natural order of their practices had been thrown out of groove. Everyone had been prepared for a fight and was left almost unsatisfied with the outcome. Except, of course, for Spartacus, who seemed nothing but delighted at this newfound comradery.

“Is this your doing?” he asked Nasir in a low hum as he passed by one time. “Your influence on him?”

“Maybe he’s just trying to be more professional,” Nasir suggested, having nothing else to say.      

“Maybe he’s trying to impress you,” Spartacus said with a smile. Nasir grinned to the ground at the accusation.

When practice officially ended Nasir walked with Agron to the outside, partly because he wanted his company, but also because he feared getting lost if he attempted to leave by himself.

“Your car back at Denny’s?” Agron asked.

“No, I take the bus. The stop’s right in front of diner though.”

“You want a lift home instead? Save you a buck-twenty.”

Nasir laughed and nodded his head, following Agron to a dark green Jeep.

“Gimme a second to clear the seat,” Agron said as he flung open the passenger seat door and began tossing various items into the back. “Alright, you’re set!”

“I could have just sat in the back,” Nasir said smartly.

“You say that like it’s not even more of a disaster back there.”

Nasir laughed, poked his head around to check the back of the car, then laughed some more.

“You even have an accent when you laugh,” Agron said as he started the car and pulled out of the lot.

“Are you saying that as a compliment or as an issue I need to resolve?”

“Compliment, definitely.”

“You’ve got an accent too though. It’s German, right?” Nasir asked, even though he knew from the interviews. Still, it made for casual conversation as they drove.

“Yup, born and raised.”

“Where in Germany are you from?”

“Cochem.”

“Ah,” Nasir hummed.

“You have no idea where that is.”

“None at all.”

“It’s alright,” Agron laughed. “It’s pretty small. What about you? Where in…”

“Syria.”

“Right, where in Syria are you from.”

“I have no idea. We moved here when I was young and I never bothered to ask.”

“Never?” Agron sounded shocked.

“Never,” Nasir replied. “My parents were too busy trying to assimilate to American culture, and trying to make sure we fit in that they thought it best to leave all of that behind.”

“We?”

“My brother.”

“You two close?”

“Complete strangers,” Nasir said. Agron didn’t seem to like that answer too much. “What is it?”

“That’s just weird to me. My brother and I were best friends,” he said, almost casually but like he wasn’t quite ready for that yet.

“Were?” Stupid thing to say, but Nasir said it anyway.

“He died about a year ago.”

“Oh.” There was a long silence which Nasir thought appropriate.

“You’re the first person ever to not ask how he died,” Agron said, somewhere between relieved and perplexed.

“It doesn’t matter. If someone’s dead, they’re dead, and it doesn’t make any difference how they went. I always thought it mattered more to ask someone how they lived instead.”

Agron nodded in a gentle way that almost didn’t suit him.

“That’s a hell of an answer,” he said, and the conversation was dropped, and the mood was brought back to lighter things as Nasir navigated Agron to his apartment complex.

“This place looks like something shat on it,” Agron said the minute he saw it.

“Wow, tell me how you really feel, Agron!”

“I’m serious! This is what I imagine hell looks like!”

“Well then hell has some damn good Wi-Fi,” Nasir said as he fumbled his way out of the car. Agron got out as well. Nasir began to prepare himself for an awkward good-bye, but he wasn’t given much of a chance as Agron swept him up in his arms and pulled him into the most remarkable kiss.

Agron had had the peace of mind to wait until Nasir was standing on the sidewalk so he wouldn’t have to bend so low to touch their mouths together. Still, Nasir stood on his toes to get a better angle as they skipped completely over any first-kiss-jitters nonsense and went right for locking lips. Nasir could feel the sun in Agron’s mouth, like all the warmth in the universe was being concealed beyond his lips. His hands trailed up Agron’s arms to gently place themselves on either side of Agron’s face while Agron kept one hand on Nasir’s neck and wove the other into the tapestry of his hair. In all of Nasir’s life, he had never felt as enormously important as he did in Agron’s arms.

After a longer time together than either of them had planned, Agron finally pulled his lips, ever softly, away from Nasir’s.

“Do you want this back?” Agron asked with a smile, pulling an envelope out from the car door and waving it gently in front of Nasir’s nose. Nasir quirked his eyebrows and took the letter from him before turning away to head inside. He could feel Agron’s smile burning through him as he walked.


	5. Chapter 5

“Babe, you left the water running,” Agron said through the grainy image on Nasir’s phone.

“Shit!” Nasir leapt up and ran back to the bathroom to hit the faucet before returning to his desk and mirror. “How did you even hear that?”

“I’m secretly in your closet,” Agron yawned. Nasir couldn’t see much of him in the phone, but he could tell he was laying the wrong way round on his bed so his headboard framed his face, sprawled out on top of his white thousand-count sheets.

“Jokes on you, I don’t have a closet!”

“Am I supposed to be impressed by that?”

Nasir didn’t answer as he began the lengthy process of brushing his hair, tip-to-root. Over the past few weeks the two had been dating, Agron and Nasir had made a point of video-chatting in the morning while Nasir did his hair. Partly so they could see one another as early as possible, but also because Nasir appreciated Agron being his personal hype man.

“Oh hey, I was cleaning my car the other day and I found exactly six of your hair ties in the passenger seat door!”

“Sorry about that. You can give them to me when I see you at the diner.”

“Give them– Nasir I threw them away!”

“You what?” Nasir stopped brushing his hair to stare Agron dead in the eyes in utter disbelief. “What kind of paycheck do you live off of that you can throw away hair ties?”

“Nasir if you want more, I’ll buy you more,” Agron sighed. “But I can’t just hold onto them for you. If someone on the team finds them they’ll know I’m seeing someone. There certainly not going to believe they’re mine!”

“You could say you were driving a friend home and she left them there!”

“Yeah, they’re gonna believe someone left six hair ties in one car ride.”

“It was just a suggestion,” Nasir shrugged, returning to his brushing. Keeping his relationship with Agron a secret wasn’t exactly ideal, but it wasn’t anything less than exciting either. Nasir hadn’t understood why Agron wanted to keep it private until he saw a news story run on one of another team’s player’s girlfriend where her whole life was being dragged up before the world. Agron just wanted privacy, and after seeing that story, Nasir did too. Of course Sibyl had been told everything, but she wasn’t going to tell anyone and had no one to tell, so everything worked out in that case. But Agron’s teammates were a different story. While they weren’t glory hogs, they might out another player to bring attention to the team, and that wasn’t something Agron was ready for just yet.

“How was practice yesterday?” Nasir asked in a casual way, like he always did.

“We’re getting better every day. By the time we face the Romans in the qualifiers they might as well call us victors before the game even starts.”

“Be careful there, Icarus,” Nasir teased. “You haven’t won yet!”

“Don’t ‘Icarus’ me, you’ve seen us play, and you’ve seen the Romans footage at the diner, no doubt. You and Sibyl are practically glued to that fucking screen, it’s a miracle you get anything done.”

“Just don’t get ahead of yourself,” Nasir said. His fingers flexed and attempted to run through his hair, the soft fibers offering resistance with to both fingers and the brush. Still, it was cathartic in a way to let his dangerously delicate fingers, the skin thin from scrubbing, be forced to push through the knots in his unruly hair.

“As long as Crixus doesn’t fuck things over, we’ll be fine.”

“How is that going, anyway,” Nasir asked. “You and Crixus’s… bonding.”

Agron snorted at the comment.

“He’s still an ass, but he’s getting along with Spartacus better. The rest of the team is growing on him as well. A lot of that is Naevia’s doing though. She’s practically a one-man promotional team for him.”

“I mean, he is very good at what he does,” Nasir said.

“In an animalistic sort of way, sure.”

“You can get monstrous on that field too.”

“Only when someone deserves it.”

“Sure.”

“What about you? How’s work?”

“Ah, the exciting life of a Denny’s dishwasher! Where to begin!” Nasir began dramatically. “Yesterday I unclogged the sink twice, helped sweep up a shattered glass, and washed load after load of dirty plates.”       

“Hey, a glass shattered. That’s exciting!”

“Not really, since the glass had been under the register for a while and no one noticed until now.”

“Might have got there from when Crixus tossed the table.”

“That’s what my manager thought too,” Nasir said. He’d gotten through half of his hair in the time they’d been talking.

“Did you ask him for time off to see our match?” Agron asked, flipping over on the bed so he was lying face up with the phone held over his head.

“Yeah, he said he’d handle it. I told him it was a personal issue though, since I didn’t think ‘I wanna go to a soccer match’ would make a very good excuse.”

“So you can lie to your boss, but opening an envelope is–”

“Are you ever going to let that go?” Nasir asked, annoyed.

“No,” Agron laughed. “This is so funny, because half of your hair is pure silk, and the other side is a moss garden.”

Nasir stole a look at himself in the mirror. He looked half wild and half tamed. It suited him, he thought.


	6. Chapter 6

Nasir picked up the night shift the day before the match to make up for not coming to work the next day, which meant virtually no one was coming in and eating so he and Sibyl could watch the running coverage of the upcoming soccer match between the Gladiators and the Romans.

“I heard Gannicus got you a ticket for the match,” Nasir said, munching on a bit of pancake that Sibyl had brought out for them to work on. She had also taken the late shift to get ready for tomorrow. They were both going to be exhausted for messing with their sleep schedule, but they could sleep from the morning until the match if they needed to.

“He did,” Sibyl smiled. “He sent them with roses. I think I’m being courted.”

Nasir laughed and took another bite of the pancake. The television had moved on from the Gladiators interviews and was now showing the Romans teammates. Julius, the ‘Caesar of the Soccer Field’, did an exceptional job in his interviews. Almost everyone in the soccer sphere was in love with him, and they weren’t wrong for being so. He was talented, charming, and handsome, though there was aggression in him that Nasir could spot in some of his highlight reels. He was going to pose a serious challenge to the Gladiators, whatever Agron thought.

“I’m so worried for them to win I might be sick,” Sibyl said while they watched.

“And we’re not even the ones playing!”

The night passed faster than Nasir had expected, and he wondered if he should take the night shift more often. Still, he was exhausted when he arrived at his apartment and wanted desperately to sleep, but knew Agron would be expecting a call. He decided he would make it a quick hello and good-bye as he hit the speed dial for Agron’s number.

“Hey, Agron,” he said in a groggy way when he heard the phone get picked up and saw the video try to catch up. “I just finished my shift at Denny’s and I’m exhausted, mind if we– What happened to you?”

Nasir was suddenly much more awake as the video finally came on and he caught sight of Agron’s black eye.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it,” Agron said, apparently shrugging the whole thing off.

“Don’t worry? What is wrong with you? What happened?”

“It’s a contact sport, Nasir, accidents happen.”

“You don’t get a black eye like that from taking a ball to the face, Agron,” Nasir retorted. “Did someone hit you?”

“Nasir, just drop it, it doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does! Was it Crixus?”

“Nasir,” Agron began, but he said it too slowly and Nasir knew he was right.

“Why did he hit you? I thought you two were getting along better?”

“I made it clear that I don’t want to talk about this, why are you pressing me?”

“Because I’m worried about you, that’s how it works, Agron!”

“Well, don’t worry!”

“You have a game this afternoon, now isn’t the time to be getting into fights,” Nasir complained.

“This wasn’t my fault,” he said, gesturing to his eye, “and since when are you a soccer etiquette expert?”

“Anyone can tell you to get along with your teammates before a match.”

“I _was_ getting along. This was Crixus’s fault!”

“I don’t know that unless you tell me what happened!”

Agron sighed and brought what looked like something frozen up to his eye.

“Crixus told me that I was losing my touch on the field,” he started. “He said my trademark was my aggression and I was being too passive as of late. He seemed to think I was gonna let the Romans walk all over us because I was no longer beating the shit out of my teammates. I told him to get fucked and he said that whatever _relationship_ I was currently in was making me a weaker player and that I needed to stop fucking whoever it is and get back to the game. So kicked him in the shins and he punched me in the face. I don’t know how he knows I’m seeing someone, but this is exactly why I didn’t want anyone to know!”

Nasir had to process that for a moment. He felt like soap, being worn down with the passage of each word. He wasn’t sure what to do with that information.

“To be fair, I do think there is something to me trying to make you less aggressive,” he finally said, with a soft conviction.

“My game is not slipping because I’m with you,” Agron said back.

“That’s not what I’m saying, I’m just saying I have been asking you to get into less fights with your teammates, which I’m not sorry for, but I know you’ll be more aggressive with the other team because you’re supposed to be.”

“Yes, exactly!”

“But that doesn’t make it right for you to be attacking Crixus for saying anything,” Nasir continued. “You don’t have to prove your still a fighter right that second; you should have waited until today on the field, with an opponent not a teammate.”     

“So what, you’re on his side then?”

“There are no sides, Agron, you’re on the same team. But getting into a fist fight with a fellow teammate the day before an important match is a stupid decision. You could have just walked away. Why do you care what he thinks?”

“I was defending my relationship with you!”

“I don’t need any defending! I don’t care about Crixus, I’m with you, and I don’t need violent acts to secure that!”

“So it’s fine for him to believe that whoever I’m dating is sucking my talent from me?”

“He can think whatever he wants, Agron–”

“You know what! If you’re in such agreement with him about all of this then there really isn’t any reason for us to be talking!” Agron shouted then hung up the phone. Nasir sunk down into a chair trying to piece together what had just happened. He felt disproportionately insignificant. He wanted to try calling back, but it wouldn’t be any use, so he lay down in bed with his clothes on and fell asleep, hoping he’d wake up and everything would be set right again.


	7. Chapter 7

_Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident_ , Nasir thought to himself when he was awake again. Everything was not set right when he woke up as he had hoped, and he felt off balance as he got dressed for the match. He almost didn’t want to go, but he had to see Agron and sort out what had happened. Crixus was wrong for what he said, but everyone was probably tense before the match and there were probably plenty of arguments and people pointing fingers of blame. It was just an accident of nerves, he was sure.

Nasir left earlier than he needed to in the hopes of getting to the field in time to see Agron, but even with arriving earlier than expected, the stadium was already filling and security wouldn’t let anyone besides players anywhere besides their assigned areas. Nasir was disappointed and felt queasy at having not settled the issue with Agron while he found his seat on the bleachers.

He was sitting in a bottom floor seat, but he wasn’t quite in the front. He was six or seven rows back from the field, but it still felt close. When the team was practicing everything felt softer than it did during a match. The lights felt more intense, the anticipation of the crowd was tangible, and Nasir almost wished for the soft safety of his kitchen and sink and the gentle sensation of cleaning something which had gotten to be a mess.

Nasir felt out of sync as the match officially started, the players on both sides doing an exceptional job. Saxa must have been holding back in practice because she was ruthless on the field. She scored a goal within the first five minutes of the game, and the crowd went wild. Naevia successfully blocked almost every shot going into the goal except one, tying the Romans with the Gladiators one to one. The only real issues on the field, were those of the defenders. Gannicus was doing well, the same for Spartacus, but Crixus and Agron both got yellow carded within minutes of each other for undue aggression against the opposing team. Nasir had to agree with those calls. Crixus was vicious always, but Agron was being particularly quick to anger, kicking harder than he needed to and shouting at anyone who he disagreed with, even if they were a fellow teammate.

Nasir felt duly responsible for Agron’s behavior. He’d spent the whole phone call telling Agron that he shouldn’t get into a fight before a match, and yet he’d goaded him into one himself. He should have left it alone, like Agron had asked him to, but he hated that Agron couldn’t just get along with his teammates. It wasn’t fair to the rest of the team that he had personal beef with one person.

By halftime the teams were both still tied, one to one, and Spartacus apparently thought it was time to rethink their strategy. As far as Nasir could see from where he was sitting, Spartacus led Agron and Crixus over to the sidelines and all three of them talked for the entirely of their time. While the rest of the world might have been confused by what they might be talking about, Nasir knew. Spartacus was well aware that their team couldn’t win unless they worked like the moving parts of a machine; if he had to spend all of halftime playing counselor to their personal issues to get them working like clockwork again than he would, and he did. Nasir watched with a hopeful smile as Crixus and Agron visibly calmed down throughout the conversation. Each spoke, then listened, then spoke again, and so on until their time was almost up and Nasir saw Agron’s hand extend out to be clasped by Crixus with a hearty shake. The tables were turning. It was like the game hadn’t even started yet.

The immediate change in the teams dynamic was not only noticeable, but frightening to the Romans, who must have thought gaining a lead would be easy with the disorder on the opposing side. They were mistaken, as Crixus and Agron began including each other in strategic plays that the Romans couldn’t keep up with. Agron was tricky to deal with on his own, and Crixus a brute, but together they were impossible and unstoppable. With the two of them, Spartacus, and Gannicus, their defense was impossible to outmaneuver. As far as Nasir could tell the other team just had to hope their defense was as good so the match would end with a tie so they could score during the shootout.

This, however, was not the only way the Romans saw as a way towards victory, as Julius, ‘The Caesar of the Soccer Field’, seemed to intentionally miss kicking the ball so he shin-kicked Agron. The kick looked hard, and painful, but not enough to put Agron out of the game, only enough to make him angry. The referee seemed to think it was an accident, not pulling a yellow card, but Nasir knew what Julius was going for. If Agron got upset, like he always did, and fought back, he’d get red carded and sent off the field. That would leave the defense down to three star players, which might be enough, but would certainly give the Romans an advantage.

Nasir couldn’t help himself when he saw the kick and worked out what was happening, and he left his seat to run to the wall of the field and look over. He felt like the world had slowed down, in some strange way, and that he was watching the whole of the current moments in slow motion. He saw Agron form a fist, and pull back, and then he caught his eye. He watched as Agron took in a deep breath of air that he let out ever so slowly. Then, without warning, he was moving towards the wall. It took him only a few seconds to make it all the way to Nasir, and before anyone could do anything he’d tangled his hand in Nasir’s hair and pulled him in for a kiss.

There was a hush than a roar from the crowd as confusion broke out about what was happening. Nasir didn’t have time to do anything besides stand still before Agron’s passionate kiss ended and he was running back to the field, the wind carrying Nasir’s whimsical laughter across the stadium. He felt light as air as he stood perfectly still, unphased that every camera had turned to face him. Agron had made a choice, and, above everything else, he’d chosen Nasir. Whatever happened next, they had each other, and that was enough.

He stood where he was, leaning on the wall, for the rest of the game, but they really needn’t have continued the match at all as the Gladiators scored three points in thirty minutes, ending the game at four to one. This was due equally in part to the Gladiators having better players, a stronger and unexpected comradery between teammates, and the shock and confusion that was surrounding Agron’s kiss with a seemingly random man in the stands. It had thrown off the Romans playing style the same way Agron’s diffusion of the fight with Crixus during practice had thrown the Gladiators out of groove. The unexpected had a way of making people feel unprepared, and that’s what the Romans were in the end.

“So much for keeping it private,” Sibyl said, finally having found where Nasir was standing. People were staring at him curiously as the stands began to clear, but he paid no attention. “You alright?”

“I have never felt so relieved.”

“You’re going to be in the news, you know,” she warned. “The more time you spend with him the more they’re going to look into you.”

“I know, but, I’m fine with that. There isn’t too much to find anyway,” he said with a shrug and a smile. He was nervous about that part, just a little bit, but he could live with once in a while finding himself the center of some scandal. Soccer players weren’t that famous anyway.

Sibyl and Nasir both waited by the wall until Gannicus and Agron came over to see them. They’d finished with their victory interviews and promotions and were finally being allowed to go home. Gannicus dramatically lifted Sibyl over the wall before walking her across the field. Nasir simply climbed over it himself.

“I’m sorry, about this morning,” Nasir began, not sure what to say. “You said to leave it alone and I just made things worse–”

He was cut off by Agron cover his mouth with his own and he felt the warmth of sunlight despite the evening having arrived.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” Agron mumbled again Nasir’s lips, not having quite pulled apart yet. “I was under a lot of pressure and my eye hurt and I–”

This time Nasir got to cut him off, and they stood there on the field in each other’s arms until they felt the weight of their own apologies sail off with the breeze.

“We’re all going out for food to celebrate,” Agron said when they had fully separated and were walking towards the exit. “I think it’s high time you got introduced proper to the team.” 

“I’m not sure how well I fit in with that, but that sounds nice,” Nasir hummed, letting Agron’s arm drift around his body while they walked. “Where are we eating?”

“We were thinking Denny’s,” Agron said, and Nasir couldn’t help but give him a shove. Still, it would be nice to be a customer for once, though he would have to spend the whole time worrying about how much of a mess he was going to make for the poor dishwasher. Then again, maybe some messes were meant to be made, and cleaning them was all part of a cycle. A little water, and you’re clean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had an absolutely magnificent time writing this, and I hope you enjoyed reading it as much. While this story didn't go exactly the way I planned, it sort of created itself with my, and I'm so glad I actually went through the motions and wrote this! May we meet again


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